


He Loves Me

by b_ofdale



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Early Days, First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Movie Relationship AU, Pre-War, lots of blushing someone stop these boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_ofdale/pseuds/b_ofdale
Summary: LeFou glanced at Gaston, and watched his chest rise and fall to the steady rhythm of his breath. He thought back to the day when they’d been lying on top of the hill, and he’d asked Gaston, “Why are we friends?”The answer had been simple, and easy back then; today, though, LeFou thought that it might have meant something different, for they were now older, and perhaps, a lot more wiser, too.





	He Loves Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little gift for [thecheesecracker](https://thecheesecracker.tumblr.com), who [kindly drew fanart](https://thecheesecracker.tumblr.com/post/161192530438/im-sure-the-fandom-is-already-aware-of-the) for one of my fics, so I really really wanted to write a little something for them in return! Thank you so much again, I hope you'll like it <3
> 
> The fic starts with Gaston and LeFou being about 11 or so, and ending with them being 15 or so!
> 
> (sorry for the shitty title ;w;)
> 
> Thank you to the lovely [Liz](http://gastonsbiceps.tumblr.com) for the editing!! ♡
> 
> Quick note: Magnifique was the name of one of the two horses Luke Evans worked with on the movie, so I gave it to Gaston's horse as well because I have no imagination.

“Gaston, why are we friends?” 

LeFou rolled on his side to look at Gaston. They were lying on the grass atop the highest hill on the edge of town, looking up at the sky and counting the clouds. Skipping school. 

“Why are we friends?” Gaston repeated, his brows furrowing. “Because we are, that’s all.” 

_There doesn't have to be a reason_ , LeFou almost heard him say. 

“Yes, but why?” LeFou insisted. He grabbed a small patch of grass and tore it off, letting it fall before picking it up again until it had all drifted away. Gaston could be friends with anyone he wanted. Yet, he spent all of his time with LeFou, and though it made LeFou’s heart soar, he didn’t think that there was anything more special about himself than about the others. “Why me?” 

Gaston scoffed, finally looking away from the sky. In his eyes, LeFou could see nothing but disagreement, and a hint of confusion. 

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t think you were worth it,” he said. “I don’t care what anyone says, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“I don’t care, actually,” LeFou replied through his blush. It truly wasn’t about the others. It was about Gaston. “I was just wondering.”

They were silent for a moment, LeFou watching Gaston as he often did. He thought he could never get tired of this; Gaston and him, against the rest of the world. 

“Because I like you,” Gaston said suddenly, sitting up. LeFou blinked at him, confused. “You’re a good friend.” 

LeFou grinned, showing off his slightly gummy smile and the gap between his front teeth. “I like you too,” he said back, with perhaps a tad too much enthusiasm. “I think I might even love you.” 

At that, Gaston laughed; not in a mocking way, nor a nervous one. He just laughed, and LeFou quickly joined in. It was like a way of saying ‘I love you, too,’ and though LeFou didn’t know yet what it exactly meant, he knew that it was important, and that he felt it deep within his heart. 

Gaston was his best friend, and he loved him. Those words were comforting, and whenever he spoke them aloud, they felt pleasant on his tongue.

Gaston closed his arm around LeFou’s shoulders, bringing him closer; it was a softness he didn’t show much, and that was maybe what made it LeFou’s favourite side of him. LeFou was well aware that only he got such treatment, and nothing else made him feel more special. 

“Anyway,” Gaston said, letting go of LeFou to rest his hands by his sides, “what should we do today?” 

LeFou shrugged. “I don’t know, whatever you want.” 

As Gaston took on his thinking face, LeFou looked away over to the town, which was bathed in the morning's sunlight. He could see himself living here forever. He liked the quiet, the familiarity, and the intimacy. He wouldn't have it any other way. 

“LeFou, are you growing your haircut?”

LeFou’s eyes snapped back to Gaston. He hadn't noticed that Gaston had fixed his attention on him, nor had he thought it’d be noticed. LeFou rubbed his neck sheepishly, hoping Gaston liked the idea.

“Yeah…” LeFou admitted with a smile, finally properly meeting Gaston’s eyes. He was more than looking; he was staring, though, not unkindly.

“Hey, let me try something,” he said then, and both of LeFou’s eyebrows shot up curiously.

Gaston caught his hand before LeFou could say anything, and had him quickly up on his feet. Then, his fingers closed around LeFou's wrist, and LeFou was brought along down the hill, trying to keep up with Gaston’s imposed rhythm. 

In town, Gaston turned to the shouts of “Shouldn't you two be at school?” and “Always together, those two,” with somewhat of a determined look on his face. He led LeFou to his house, assuring him his parents weren't home and that they wouldn't get into trouble. Gaston told him to wait by the door while he left to go get something. After a few minutes had passed, he came back with a hair comb in hand. 

They left his house soon after and were back to running around town together until Gaston stopped before a shop—the one he always stopped at while on his way to school. 

But this time, it wasn't himself that Gaston put in front of the displayed mirror; it was LeFou. He blushed at the sudden amount of attention as Gaston started brushing his hair, instructing him not to glance at the mirror until he was done.

Despite himself LeFou watched from the corner of his eye, mesmerised at the changes happening in front of him in the mirror.

“Voilà!” Gaston exclaimed only a few minutes later. “It’s perfect!”

Though LeFou didn't say anything, there was much going on in his head; he couldn't see much of it, but he knew already that he _loved_ what Gaston had done.

Gaston adjusted one last strand of hair before putting his hand on LeFou’s shoulder, grinning. 

“Ha! Now we look alike,” Gaston said, looking proud of himself.

He didn't want to look any other way ever again.

“Actually, you look just as good as I do,” Gaston added with a strange, comforting fondness observable in both his expression and his voice. He put his other hand on LeFou’s other shoulder, giving them a light squeeze that spread yet another blush across LeFou’s cheeks. “And that’s pretty damn good…”

Gaston then made LeFou turn so he would see himself fully in the mirror, like a painter would as modestly as possible, show off his latest masterpiece.

LeFou’s eyes widened slightly. His lips formed a grin, which Gaston quickly returned.

“Wow! We do look good!”

“Huh.” Gaston passed his hand through his hair, brows furrowed. “But my coif should be higher.”

A quiet, approving laugh took over LeFou, and the smile that spread again over Gaston’s lips at the sound was, perhaps, the most endearing thing LeFou ever wished to see. 

_I love him._

_I love him._

  


~•§•~  


LeFou definitely didn’t consider himself a morning person, however, the gentle rays of sunshine falling onto him in the early mornings of summer were always the reason why he ended up drifting into wakefulness much earlier than he wished to be.

Unable to go back to sleep, he often found himself up at dawn, sitting around aimlessly in his room until his grandmother called him for breakfast—he often promised himself that as soon as he’d be old enough not to be reprimanded for playing with knives and fire, he’d be more helpful. Sometimes, though, he thought he would _never_ be old enough. 

However, that morning promised to be quite different from what he was used to. Or, maybe not quite as much. 

LeFou wasn’t out of bed yet when a rock flew through the open window, rolling onto the floor. LeFou stared at it, wondering who would be enough of an idiot to throw a rock inside of a room where, maybe, someone could have been seriously injured.

The answer, nevertheless, came quickly to him, when the whisper of his name reached LeFou’s ear—the identity of the visitor could not have been made more clear. 

With a shake of his head, LeFou got out of bed, and poked his head out of the window. 

As expected, Gaston stood on the street, about to send in another rock which, this time, would have definitely hurt LeFou if he had thrown it. He lowered his arm, grinning up at him.

“Bonjour!” he exclaimed, as loudly as the hour and place allowed him to. 

“Gaston?” LeFou whispered, voice hushed but slightly worried. “What are you doing here? I thought you were grounded.”

Gaston merely shrugged, ignoring LeFou’s statement. “Let’s go horse riding.”

LeFou’s brows furrowed. He didn’t understand how Gaston could always find ways to make his situation worse than it already was. Sneaking off to go ride horses? It was a terrible idea.

But instead of voicing his actual thoughts, LeFou said, “I can’t ride.”

“I’ll teach you.”

LeFou raised an eyebrow. “Neither can you.”

“I’ll learn on the go.” 

LeFou gaped at him, throwing his arms up in the air with a roll of his eyes.

“Come on, LeFou!” Gaston insisted.

LeFou sighed. “You’re going to get me into trouble,” he said, before closing the window and pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t refuse Gaston anything. 

And, he had to admit it, he did want to try riding a horse. 

“Just because I love you,” he muttered under his breath. 

Not wasting any more time, LeFou quickly put some proper clothing on before he sneaked out of the house, quiet on his toes as he walked down the stairs. 

Gaston welcomed him with a friendly clap on LeFou’s shoulder. “We’re gonna have fun, you’ll see!” he said, sounding, as always, as sure of himself as someone could ever be. 

LeFou had never doubted that; he just wasn’t so sure that Gaston coming home afterwards would be as fun, but there was little he could do to change Gaston’s mind. Though, he could do what he did best: be there when Gaston would need him to be. 

Taking his hand—and promptly making him blush—Gaston lead LeFou just on the outskirts of town, where most of the horses roamed the fields along the river. 

They got under the fence, laughing as they managed not to get their knees dirty. LeFou breathed in deep; being brought along by Gaston so early in the morning wasn’t so bad, if only for the beauty of dawn upon the landscape, and the obvious joy radiating from his friend, outshining everything else. 

It wasn’t unusual for LeFou to have his breath taken away. 

Unsurprisingly, Gaston approached one of the smallest horses in the field: Magnifique, a young, black stallion that Gaston had always dreamed of making his own. Actually, it wasn’t even just a dream anymore; LeFou knew that Gaston had made up his mind about it enough to get what he wanted, no matter what. 

“Look at him! Monsieur François told me he just finished taming him—do you know what that means?”

“That you won’t almost die again if you try to get on his back?”

Gaston grinned as he patted Magnifique’s neck. “Exactly.”

LeFou rolled his eyes again at Gaston’s obliviousness, though, it was nothing but warmhearted. The first and last time Gaston had managed to get on Magnifique, he’d ended up with a broken wrist, and a bunch of bruises, yet, his determination didn’t allow him to ever back down from what he wanted. And, much to LeFou’s surprise, he had been patient, which wasn’t something Gaston usually was; waiting for the months to pass until Magnifique had become disciplined and safe enough to ride. 

With the horse now disciplined, there was no doubt Gaston would ask for him on his next birthday, and, when it came to gifts, there was nothing his parents refused him. 

What Gaston didn’t receive in love, support, and understanding, he got in expensive gifts instead. 

Gaston liked to state to anyone of their age that that was enough for him—he didn’t need anything else from them, that he didn’t care. LeFou, however, knew better than anyone about how much that wasn’t always true. 

Gaston’s parents weren’t awful, per se, but they definitely weren’t the best parents a kid could wish for. 

“Help me get on his back,” Gaston asked then, snapping LeFou out of his thoughts. 

LeFou blinked, processing the request as disappointment rose within him; he’d hoped to ride a horse, too. He masked the disappointment from his face, hoping Gaston hadn’t caught it, before smiling up at him. 

With some difficulty, LeFou helped Gaston get on the horse who thankfully stood still, looking curiously at the pair. 

Once Gaston sat on Magnifique’s back, his face lit up, and he looked down at LeFou with sparkles in his eyes. 

So, that was what a dream coming true looked like. LeFou couldn’t help but feel his chest become filled with warmth, knowing that he’d played a part in it. 

“How do I look?” Gaston asked, hands slowly losing their strong grip on the horse’s mane. Magnifique was incredibly calm, back to grazing the grass, and the more the seconds passed, the more Gaston looked confident. There was no doubt he’d be a natural at this.

LeFou opened his mouth to answer, before closing it again. He bit his bottom lip, unsure of how to word his thoughts. 

“You—you look like a hero,” he eventually said, with more conviction than he’d meant to. 

Though LeFou thought Gaston’s face couldn’t lit up more, it did. He was beautiful—the most beautiful thing LeFou had ever seen. 

“Come on,” Gaston said. “Give me your hand, I’ll help you up.”

“What?”

“Give me your hand, LeFou,” Gaston repeated. There was something strange about his voice; a sort of endearment, something deep that told LeFou that Gaston meant every word. “Would it be as much fun without you?” 

And there, up on his horse and the sun shining behind him, bathing him in a halo of light, extending his hand down to him, Gaston truly did—he truly looked like a hero.

If he never got to become anybody else’s, at least, he’d be LeFou’s.

With a deep intake of breath, LeFou took Gaston’s hand. He didn’t miss the blush spread over Gaston’s cheeks, causing his own to burn up.

_I love him._

_I love him._

_He loves me?_

  


~•§•~  


They were on the other side of the hill, looking down on the lake as Magnifique grazed the grass from under the hill’s high tree while they talked of nothing and everything at the same time.

Their chests were bare and just dried from their afternoon swim. Both of them had their arms under their heads now, sharing a comfortable silence together; there weren’t many of those, but when one came, it was never left unwelcomed. 

LeFou cherished moments like these, and though Gaston didn’t often voice it, he knew Gaston felt the same; there was nothing quite like the few hours they shared with no one but each other. 

It was perhaps the best part of not being in school anymore. 

Gaston had finished school three years earlier, when LeFou had chosen to stop first in order to help his grandmother at home. “There’s no point if you’re not there,” he’d said. “It’s boring, the headmaster hates me, and I don’t need it anyway.”

 _Besides, school won’t make me the hero I want to be_ , is what LeFou understood from behind Gaston’s words. 

With his parents unhappy at their son’s choices, Gaston spent most of his time over at LeFou’s house; helping from time to time when LeFou’s grandmother had her back turned. Then, when all had been done, he took LeFou’s hand and lead him to the outskirts of town. 

Hunting, horse riding, swimming—there was always something to do until the evening came around; when it was time to part ways until the next day, bringing them back together again. 

They were never really apart, he realized. LeFou had never thought much of it before, that is, until he’d noticed how all of the other teenagers, though they were as good of friends as they could be, were never as connected to one another as Gaston and himself were. 

Not that he minded it one bit, nor did he think that Gaston had ever even noticed—if he had, he most likely didn’t care. 

LeFou liked the thought of that. The thought of Gaston not caring about how unusual their companionship may be; choosing to live his life in such a way, like there was no other person he would rather want to spend every single day with.

“How do you see the future?” LeFou asked then, breaking the silence.

Gaston didn’t look away from the sky, but his brows furrowed. “Less boring.”

LeFou twiddled his thumbs. “So… you do get bored?” 

“No,” Gaston said, shaking his head. “I mean, yes. But not of us. Never. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Despite himself, LeFou cracked a smile. He hadn’t thought Gaston would grasp the true meaning behind his words, and though he hadn’t really doubted it, hearing it still warmed his heart.

“Do you?”

The question surprised him; he didn’t understand how Gaston could ever fathom such a thing. “No, of course not.” 

“Good,” he said. “I don’t want you to ever be anything else but happy when you’re with me.”

LeFou glanced at Gaston, and watched his chest rise and fall to the steady rhythm of his breath. He thought back to the day when they’d been lying on top of the hill, and he’d asked Gaston, “Why are we friends?” 

The answer had been simple, and easy back then; today, though, LeFou thought that it might have meant something different, for they were now older, and perhaps, a lot more wiser, too. 

He would still say he loved Gaston, although this time, he would contemplate ‘love’ in a different sort of way. 

Not a deeper, or more important way. Just different. 

He’d loved Gaston for longer than he could remember. He’d felt that love grow, develop, and bring more joy into his life than he’d ever thought it could. 

He’d been happy then, and he was happy now. 

Gaston didn’t have to worry about that. He sometimes wondered whether he could be any happier than he was by Gaston’s side. He didn’t really want or intend to find that out. 

He also wondered if he made Gaston just as happy as he was. 

LeFou’s eyes trailed over Gaston. Moving from his toes to the top of his head; from his feet covered in dried earth to his stomach, to his collarbone, before settling his gaze over on his lips. 

He bit his bottom lip before sitting up, keeping his legs under him as he rested his hands on his knees. LeFou looked over at Gaston next to him, who was currently chewing on a bundle of wheat. 

“Gaston?”

Gaston glanced over at him, a hint of curiosity in his eyes from the sudden seriousness in LeFou’s attitude. “Hmm?”

A breath, LeFou clenched his hands into determined fists.

“Can I kiss you?”

He’d spoken with assurance, more than he’d expected to. Immediately, LeFou bit his bottom lip again, wondering what had come over him. God, he hoped he hadn't ruined the moment.

He hoped he hadn't ruined _everything._

Yet, Gaston did nothing but raise both eyebrows at him, not moving an inch. 

“Would I be your first?” he merely asked. As if he didn't already know the answer. As if LeFou wouldn’t be his first, too. 

LeFou nodded vehemently. He was still blushing, but Gaston didn't seem mad or upset about it, and so, all his sudden nervousness was quick to evaporate, gone as soon as it had come. 

“Alright, then,” Gaston said, though he still hadn’t moved. “Your first should be the best, LeFou. Come on, kiss me.” 

“What, just like that?”

“Yeah,” Gaston replied, throwing the wheat away. “Wait, no.”

To these words, he sat up straight, placing a hand flat against LeFou’s bare chest before he pushed him down onto his back so that their positions were now reversed. LeFou straightened himself up onto his elbows just as Gaston placed his hands on either side of him, towering over him as a result.

“Like that.”

LeFou stared wide-eyed at Gaston’s face right above his. He sucked in another breath before taking his courage in both of his hands. He let his head fall against the earth, and raised his hands, placing one against Gaston’s cheek while the other went to his neck, bringing him to him. The skin there was felt warm and soft underneath his palms. 

First, LeFou did nothing but watch. Even though he’d spent perhaps every single day of his life in Gaston’s company, he didn’t think he’d ever seen him this close, had never had the chance to take the time to look. 

And now, he did. He did and saw so much. It was like that each and everyday; LeFou got to notice or learn something new about Gaston that he hadn’t known before. Details, really, and yet, LeFou was amazed by each and every one of them. 

A small scar over his cheekbone that LeFou guessed was from Gaston’s first riding lessons, so pale that he had never seen it before. 

Faint freckles on his forehead, speckling along his hairline. 

A spark in his eyes. 

When LeFou guided Gaston’s lips towards his, raising his own head a little, Gaston was like a leaf floating in the wind; surprisingly, he let LeFou lead him, so gently it felt like they’d done this many times before. 

Their lips met in a tentative kiss; everything neither of them were. 

They were all blushing cheeks, awkward bodies and naked chests almost pressed together, thumbs tracing the sides of each other’s faces. 

“I love you, you know?” LeFou said in no more than a breath, yet, no less confident. 

“I know.”

LeFou would never forget the smile that grazed Gaston’s lips in that moment. Nor the way he drew in a sharp breath, as though to give himself courage, before he caught LeFou’s lips with his own. 

_I love him, I love him._

_He loves me._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it friend <3 *heavy breathing* 
> 
> @ everyone: check out [this other (amazing) piece of art](https://thecheesecracker.tumblr.com/post/160641292303/shameless-fluff-im-apparently-incapable-of), which was featured in the fic! You'll recognize it :p 
> 
> Though this fic is the same kind of fic as [ The Way He Looks](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10681515), it's not the same... storyline? The Way He Looks was set in an interpretation of canon. This one is set in another one in which a romantic relationship did happen between them, before the war and the whole Belle thing. 
> 
> I might someday write an Established Relationship sequel (I included some details in this one that would be important in a potential sequel,) but I can't promise anything right now as I absolutely need to write the next chapters of my Barduil long fic. I'm definitely considering it, though :D It'd be just a short fic like this one and would conclude this AU. If it happens, I'll probably post it as a second chapter. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, as always don't forget to leave a Kudos if you liked it, and I'll cherish all comments, no matter how short (or how long!) <3


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